


The Princess and the Pirate's Dragon

by Teralina



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26175997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teralina/pseuds/Teralina
Summary: THIS STORY HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH CHEESE!!!<.<>.>
Relationships: Ana x pirate and dragon





	1. Chapter 1

Anastasia sighed as she leaned out of her balcony window. The sun hung high in a bright and cheerful sky. The fragrance of the orchard blooms wafted up to her nose on a soft breeze. Beyond the walls of the castle, hawkers sold their wares while others went about their business. 

Anastasia felt as if she should be down there among them. She should be running through the grass, climbing the trees like when she was a child, walking amongst the kingdom's citizenry, maybe even splashing around in the river. Anything but stuck in her room waiting for her father.

He had ordered her to wait for him until he was done with the day's business, telling her only that he had some big announcement to make, but would give her no further details. Giving another sigh, she turned away from her window and threw herself onto her bed.

A few seconds later, a loud knock sounded at her door. “Oh, finally!” She exclaimed, sitting up. She took a moment to ready herself, straightening her gown and posture, before calling out “You may enter.”  
The door swung open to expose a guard, his armor a mixture of decoration and function, showing his mostly ceremonial role in the castle. Without comment, the guard stepped aside and her father, King Gregory the third, stepped into the room. He waited patiently while the door was closed behind him, leaving his guards waiting in the hall.

“Hello, Father.” Anastasia greeted him while struggling to keep the impatience from her voice. “I hope the morning greeted you well.”

“The day finds me just fine.” Gregory replied. Pleasantries exchanged, the king began to pace across her room, his forehead furrowed under the weight of his thoughts. Anastasia followed him with her gaze, but long experience had taught her that nothing could make him speak his piece quicker than just leaving him along until he was ready.

Finally he ceased his restless pacing and moved to stand in front of her, arms folding behind his back. As he raised his gaze to meet her own, the young woman could see storm clouds of worry in his gaze. “What I have to say will not come easily.” His voice rumbled like a landslide in the large room. “But you are my only daughter and I care about your welfare.”

Anastasia scowled, already disliking where he was headed. “What do you mean, father? What's wrong? Has your cough returned?”

The king shook his head and returned to his pacing. “No, the elixir worked as it was supposed to and the cough has never returned. But this isn't about me, it's about you.” His words were measured to fall in time with his steps. Anastasia could picture the words themselves taking on a physical form and fluttering to the floor to be trampled beneath his pacing feet. “I know it hasn't been easy since your mother passed away, but I've done the best I could.”

“Of course you have, father.” She replied, wishing he would get to the point before the words piled up too high and filled up her room.

“I may have made a few mistakes here and there, but everything I've done has been done with the intention of your benefit.” He droned on. His hands swung around as he talked as if trying to swat away the words that began to gather around him like biting flies. “What I mean is, even when I've said or done the wrong thing, I had your best interests at heart when I did it.”

A chill crept up Anastasia's spine, freezing her blood as it crawled through her veins. “Father... what did you do?”

The King ignored her as he continued his pacing. “I've always done my best to make sure you've been happy, despite your mother not being with us anymore. Maybe I've been a little too lenient. Not paid enough attention to the right things. I should have made sure that you understood your station in life. Being royalty has certain duties. Expectations. And I blame myself, I should have taught you about that instead of letting you run free like some peasant child. But I wanted you to be happy.”

“What have you done?” She asked again. An egg of dread hatched in her chest. The dark, slithering creature that crawled free grew larger with every breath, crushing her lungs and winding its way around her heart.

King Gregory finally ceased his pacing and turned to face her, clasping his hands behind his back. “Your eighteenth birthday is mere days away. You have barely even glanced at your suitors.” Anastasia struggled to breath. “I will not have you grow into an old maid due to my cowardliness. You're nearly too old as it is.”

“Father, I-” She tried to reply, but the king held up a hand to stop her.

“I have been sent a request for your hand by the ruler of the southern kingdom, King Sardonay. And I have agreed. He should arrive by tomorrow and the wedding will be held immediately.”  
“What?” Anastasia exploded up from the bed. “Father, how could you!”

“Now now,” he replied. “None of that. You'll be queen of a very prosperous kingdom and Sardonay is in need of an heir. It's a perfect match.” He offered a slight smile, but it died quickly. “And I've been told he's quite handsome for his age.”

“For his age?” Anastasia screeched. “Just how old is he?”

“Well, he's...” Her father faltered and looked around the room as if seeking aid. “He's not really so old as all that, but...”

“No! No, I won't do it!” Anastasia protested. “No! No! No! No! No!”

“Enough!” Her father boomed. “I won't hear it. This is a good match and you'll thank me for it later.” He turned away and began stomping towards the door. “Make sure to make yourself presentable by tomorrow to meet your husband.” The door slamming shut added a note of finality to his words.

The young princess stared at the closed door as if the barrier itself would offer some comment that she could argue with, her mouth puckered in a pout. Her slender arms crossed stubbornly across her chest, but the only sound was the muffled orders of her father posting guards at her door, in case she should try to leave.

Not that she really had anywhere to go if she did try to leave. She couldn't possibly hide amongst the peasants, she was too well known and her father would send men to search every single house in the kingdom until she was found again. 

Anastasia turned her angry gaze to her window, eyes narrowing as a plan began to form in her mind. She did have one ace up her sleeve. But she'd only have one chance to play it. Uncrossing her arms, Anastasia began to fiddle with the only ring on her left hand. Unlike the expensive jewelry she had frequently been gifted with, the ring was rather plain and ordinary looking, with a simple silver banding and a tiny blue stone held in the setting, and yet she considered it her most valuable possession.

Giving a sigh, she flopped back onto her bed. It was going to be a long day, and she couldn't enact her plan until nightfall. Several people came to her chambers as she waited, including a seamstress and her team who were sent to make her wedding gown. Anastasia sulked the entire time she was being measured, poked, and draped with various fabrics, but she adamantly refused to say a single word. Even her own chambermaid failed to get a single comment out of the princess beyond a single “Get out!”

Anastasia just wanted to be left alone. The rest of the kingdom could plan and putter without her, thank you very much. She had her own life to live, and not even her father would force her to marry some lonely old codger just because he said so. If he wanted her gone, fine, she would get gone. Somewhere he would never find her again. Once more she laid in her bed, fingering the simple ring.

When she refused to come down for dinner, Anastasia expected her father to come back, possibly even rescind his order for her to marry in an attempt to regain her favor, but he stayed away. Possibly to avoid doing that very thing. The moon's silvery smile was just peeking into her window when she finally decided it was time to escape.

From beneath her bed, Anastasia fetched a rope she kept hidden beneath her mattress. When she was a child, she had often used it to escape in the middle of the night to visit a special friend. It had been a long time since she'd had to use it, but she had periodically checked the fibers and made sure they were still strong. She tied it to one of her bed's posts and threw the other end out of the window, shimmying down the woven threads with practiced swiftness.

Once Anastasia's slippered feet touched the grass, she paused and looked back at the castle she had grown up in. It was her home, where she had spent her entire life, and she was about to leave everything behind. Her few beloved trinkets, her favorite horse, all of her gowns, all of it would be left behind and likely never to be seen again. And her memories. She had made many memories on the lush grounds, but at least she could carry those away with her.

Finally, she released the rope and turned away, turning her back on her old life forever.


	2. Chapter 2

With her robe pulled tightly around her small frame, Anastasia slipped carefully from shadow to shadow as she made her careful way toward the village. Her father, the King, was adamant about keeping his kingdom free of bandits and thieves, keeping regular patrols on all of the public roads and in the village. She wanted to avoid the attention of everyone, both those who wished to harm or protect her, so she moved slowly and listened for any possible sound before moving to the next hiding place. In this slow, safe pace, she slowly made her way to her ultimate destination; the docks. 

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon and it wouldn't be long before someone finally noticed that the princess had disappeared. Crouching down behind a pile of old crates, the air filled with the stink of grease, sweat and old fish, Anastasia watched the activity that was already well under way.

Large and unsavory looking men were everywhere. Some were carrying barrels or crates, some were weaving rope, others were preparing nets or sharpening harpoons. A few older scruffy men sat in a semi circle passing a bottle of something that Anastasia assumed was cheap wine.

Finally she spotted the person she was looking for. “Paulo! Paulo!” She called out, dashing from her hiding place to catch the passing dock master.

The older man turned in surprise at hearing her voice, but then smiled as he watched her approach. His warm brown eyes always made her feel safe and welcome in his presence. “Why good morning, Princess.” He called to her. “You're certainly here early. Come to watch the fishing fleets head out to sea, are you?”

“Shhhh!” Anastasia shushed him, looking around for any sign of recognition, but she was largely ignored. “I'm not here to watch anything, Paulo. My father thinks I'm still in my room, but I'm running away. He plans to force me to marry some vile old man just to be rid of me.”

Paulo's eyes opened wide and his mouth made an O of surprise. “What? That can't possibly be the case. I may not be close with the king, but those sound like the actions of someone who doesn't care for his offspring, and the entire kingdom knows how much your father loves you.”

Anastasia gave an unconvinced snort. “He says it's for my own good. Says I'm practically an old maid already.”

“Well, you are getting a little long in the tooth.” Paulo teased, pretending to give her an appraising eye. “You're what, thirty now? Only a few more prime breeding years left.”

The princess was unamused and gave his arm a slap. “Oh stop. You know exactly how old I am. And don't talk about me like I'm some farm animal! Honestly, Paulo, of everyone in the kingdom, I really expected better from YOU.”

Paulo laughed and bowed his head. “You're right, Ana. I am sorry.” There was not a single note of apology in his voice. “You are not an animal and should not be treated like one. So what can I do for you today? Is he coming by ship and you need me to delay him from disembarking? Or maybe I should help you find some nice exotic fabric for your wedding dress?” He said the last bit with a playful wink. “There is this one ship that has just arrived from-”

“No, none of that.” Anastasia said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I need you to smuggle me aboard a ship. Any ship, at this point, I don't have the time to be picky. But it has to be leaving the kingdom.”

Paulo's mouth dropped to his chest. “Surely I just misheard you,” He replied. “I thought I heard you say that you wanted me to help you stow away on a ship in order to escape.”

“You heard right, Paulo.” Anastasia said with a determined nod. “If Father wants me out of the kingdom, then I'll leave. But on my own terms.”

Paulo's face paled, nearly growing as white as his beard. “You know, married life really isn't so bad. You could always-”

“No. Don't try to talk me out of this.” She interrupted him again. “I will not be forced to marry, royal blood or not.”

The older man leaned down, his voice lowered only for her ears. “Do you have any idea what will happen to me should the King find out?”

“Then don't tell him.” Anastasia replied flatly. “You owe me, Paulo. You said if I ever needed ANYTHING, anything at all, that you would do it for me no matter the cost. Do you remember that?”

Paulo sighed and hung his head. “Of course. My son owes his life to you. Alright.” He raised his head and gave her a resolute stare. “Give me a few hours and I will find you safe passage on a merchant vessel. But I can't guarantee anything beyond that, not your safety once you leave the ship nor your passage home. The world outside of the castle is not what your used to. It's dirty and it's dangerous. No one will bow and follow your commands. There are those who will seek to take everything you own, and others who will harm you merely because they can. Are you sure this marriage will be so terrible that it's worth giving up your current lifestyle?”

“Even a gilded cage is still a cage.” Anastasia replied.  
Paulo nodded, and true to his word, the princess found herself stowed away on a ship, sailing away from her home.


	3. Chapter 3

The week passed slowly for Anastasia. While free to roam the ship, she mostly kept herself confined to the captain's chamber. She had mostly gotten over her initial seasickness, but looking out at the swaying water only brought it back again.

She had taken almost nothing with her from the castle and there was very little to keep her entertained in the cabin. The ship's captain had generously offered her use of his personal library, but reading had only made her feel even dizzier.

Despite all of the small discomforts, she remained resolute in her choice to flee. She was sure she would find some way to survive once they reached land. Precisely how was something she would think about later.

When she heard the first scream, she thought she had imagined it. Anastasia was stretched out on her cot with her eyes closed, trying to will away another spell of dizziness. She had been assured that the rocking was perfectly normal for any boat the size of the one she was on, and the creaking of wood did not mean it was seconds from splitting apart and letting in the sea water. The captain had even knocked on the wall to show her its sturdiness, but her doubts remained. What also remained was her boughts of sea sickness, despite trying every remedy the crew had suggested to her. Under such conditions, the young princess could hardly be blamed for mistaking the sound as an auditory hallucination.

When it was followed by more shouts of alarm, the young woman's eyes snapped open. It was no dream, something was wrong! Despite her discomfort, Anastasia jumped to her feet and stumbled unsteadily from the cabin, searching for the source of the problem.

The sun shone down cheerfully from a nest of soft clouds, the rest of the sky a clear and gentle blue. A soft, salt-laden breeze caressed her face in passing. Had she been at home in the castle she would have considered it a perfect day.

As she reached the deck, she saw men scurrying around, their faces molded in masks of fear and determination. She grabbed the nearest deck hand and pulled him over to her. “What's going on?” She asked. “I heard screaming.”

“No doubts of that, my lady.” He said hurriedly with a glance over his shoulder. “Pirates spotted us. If you're smart you'll hide below, s'gonna be a mess up here.” Without waiting for her reply, he pulled his arm free and dashed away to complete some task of more importance than giving an explanation to a frightened princess.

“Pirates!” She repeated to herself, slender fingers covering her mouth as if to prevent the word from passing through them again. Like anyone who had anything to do with the sea, she had heard of pirates before. Stories about the terrible things they did were told from the most grungy tavern to the most lavish guild hall. She had cheered more than once at public hangings, hidden amongst the kingdom's other residents.

Following the deckhands advice, she turned and dashed back into the captain's cabin, searching frantically for a suitable hiding place. Following the deckhands advice, she turned and dashed back into the captain's cabin, searching frantically for a suitable hiding place. She finally settled for scooting under the captain's cot, flattening her small body as close to the floor as she could get and praying for invisibility.

More screams echoed outside, followed by far away thunder. Anastasia closed her eyes tightly and whispered her prayer over and over until the words themselves ceased to make sense. More thunder rolled and she tried to pretend that it wasn't actually cannon fire she was hearing. It's just thunder, she told herself. Just a squall. There are no pirates. It's just waves and wind that are causing all of that panic.

She barely bit back a scream as she felt the first impact. The entire ship began to tremble like a frightened animal as the first steel ball bounced off its sides.

Another boom, more shouts, followed by a terrible crash and the crunching of shattering wood. Anastasia couldn't contain her scream. She felt as if it were her own bones shattering instead of the ship's wooden hull. Each shudder made her feel as if she was going to be shaken to pieces. More than a few bruises formed as she was tossed around the tight space like a rag doll.

Shouted orders, booms of canon fire, crashes and splintering of woods, cries of fear, pain and distress, it all mingled with her own whispered prayers and shouts of fear into a mangled mess of unidentifiable sound that wrapped around the runaway princess like a cocoon. She coiled herself tighter and hid away in the noise, as if it would protect her from the violence outside.

It felt like days had passed before her cocoon was unraveled by the intrusion of silence.

The sudden quiet stabbed Anastasia like a spear, making her gasp, then hold her breath in panic. No more booming canons. No more shouts. No more splintering of wood or clashing of metal. The only sound that reached her ears was the thundering of her own heart.

For a moment, Anastasia worried that she had been stricken deaf, or even that she had died and not realized it, but she still felt far too afraid to not be alive. Her hearing was also tested when she heard a loud footstep above her.

The clomp of heavy boots dripped down from the ceiling, the steps coming in a slow, leisurely meter. Soon, other footsteps joined the heavy boots, some quicker and more excited than others. Voices began to follow the footsteps, jovial, playful voices. The young princess wondered if the pirates had gone, maybe they had been spooked off or outrun, but something held her where she was. The captain knew where she was and he would tell her when it was safe to come out.

She strained to make out what the voices were saying, but whoever was speaking was too muffled to make any of it out. Another realization sent shivers down Anastasia's spine. She had only been with the crew for a short time, but she had gotten used to the sounds made by those who inhabited the ship. She did not recognize any of the voices nor footsteps currently sounding above her.

“Don't forget to check the hold.” A single voice finally made itself clear from the muttering. “See if there's anything valuable down there. I'll search the quarters.” The heavy thump of the boots came again, making their unhurried way across the deck above her.

As the heavy steps slowly made their way down the short stair, Anastasia found herself whimpering and pressing herself against the wooden wall behind her as if she could become a part of it. Step by step, the heavy thumps came closer, closer, closer, until all she could hear was the pounding in her ears. Finally they stopped in front of the closed door of the captain's cabin.

As the door squealed open, Anastasia struggled to bite back a scream.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to see here YET. I'm working on it.
> 
> Slowly.
> 
> Painfully slowly.
> 
> GET OFF MY BACK ALREADY WOULD YAH?!!

“Look at this little shiny I found in the fancy cabin.” The man called to the others as he pulled a struggling Anastasia behind him. “Must be that fat man's daughter.”

“Tha one tha wus blubberin like a baby?” Another of the men asked, all of them coming closer to surround the pair and staring at the princess like hungry hounds eyeing a fresh steak.

Another of the men studied her like some strange new plant in the garden, trying to decide if she was meant to be there or a weed. His face was mostly covered by a scraggly white beard and his eyebrows sat like fluffy caterpillars above his eyes. He finally reached out and pinched her hip. “This one's a bit skinny, me thinks. No good meat on her bones. Let her join her pa.”

Anastasia had never been so offended, nor so frightened. Offense made angry words boil up in her throat like steam, but fear choked them back. Instead all she could seem to do was jerk and twist in an attempt to free herself from the pirate's iron grasp.

“Be a waste to throw her over before we have a bit of fun first.” Said another, his face a mass of salt-toughened wrinkles and a few wispy hairs poking from his weak chin. He leered at her lustfully.  
“Aye, toss her to us before yah toss her in ocean!” Called out another. A cry of agreement rose out form the rest of the men.

Anastasia froze in place, only able to move her head, looking at the ugly faces of the men around her. They were dressed in mismatched rags, some with scarves tied over their heads or around their necks. Many were missing teeth, which was common among the seamen at her home. They all looked filthy and unhealthy, some of them fatter than minor nobles and others skinny to the point of near starvation. One of them even had a wooden stump in place of his lower leg.

“Not gonna waste this little shiny on you lot.” The pirate clasping her wrist said with a harsh laugh. “This one goes right to the cap'n first. Maybe he'll let you dogs have the scraps once he's done with her.”

While she was glad to be safe from the rowdy crowd, for the moment, she didn't like the sound of what was coming. From the pot to the fire, her frightened mind conjured the old saying. She could even hear her father's weary voice as he muttered it to himself while she had been within earshot. For the first time, she truly understood the phrase.

Shoving the other men aside, the pirate gave Anastasia's arm a jerk and nearly pulled her off her feet. Caught by surprise, the young woman gave a small cry of surprise. She tried to drag her feet, but her small frame offered no real opposition to the burly man leading her along and she stumbled for several steps in order to recover her balance.

The Pirate that held her was bigger than the others. His clothes were far from fine in quality, but they were clean and well mended. Well fed but not fat, his arms were swollen with muscle. His heavy boots, likely stolen, were of an expensive make. His long black hair was uncovered and lay in a plait down his back. She decided that he must be some kind of adviser to the pirate captain.

He led her across the deck swiftly. Anastasia noticed splashes of blood and dropped swords as she walked behind him, and then she came across her first corpse. She screamed and instinctively tried to jerk away, nearly dislocating her own arm in her effort to escape.

The burly pirate leading her stopped and turned to see what had disturbed his captive. Seeing it was just the corpse of one of the slain merchant crew, he sneered and kicked the body aside. “He's dead, girl. Won't hurt you now.”

Anastasia's eyes locked on the face of the slain man, unable to look away from his death mask of fear and pain. He had been stabbed several times, blood covering his previously pristine uniform. 'Is that my fate?' Anastasia wondered. 'Will they at least have the courtesy to kill me before throwing me to the sea?' A feeling of numbness washed over the young woman, erecting a wall between herself and her emotions.

In her numbed state, the princess finally allowed herself to be led calmly, passing more puddles of spilled blood and more corpses without reaction. As they reached the side of the boat, she passively noticed a pair of pirates throwing a body over the rail. The body groaned groggily before being hoisted overboard. A brief scream of alarm was cut off with a loud splash.

Ropes and chains were wrapped around the railing, holding the merchant's ship tightly against that of the pirates. A long wooden board spanned the small distance between the two ships. The heavy-booted man led her carefully across the plank. He walked with a casualness that came only with experience, but Anastasia had to look down and watch her feet as she stepped.

Beneath her, in the tight space between the two vessels, the waves roiled angrily like a feeding animal. Corpses bobbed limply in the water, some of them staring up at her with empty eyes, their faces permanently twisted into grimaces of pain.A few more steps and they disappeared, replaced by the clean deck of the pirate's ship. Clean, but shabby. The pirate's ship was smaller than the merchant ship, and also less cared for. The sails were worn and thin, the ropes frayed, the wood old with sections in bad need of fresh pitch. While clean of blood, bodies or splinters, the pirate deck somehow looked cluttered. Anastasia took all of this in passively as she retreated further and further into herself. Before long, she was led to a door and the burly pirate knocked sharply. “Enter.” Came a muffled voice from inside. The door was opened and Anastasia was led inside. The cabin was smaller than the merchant's and stuffy, with only a single open window. The room was sparse, with a single bed, a small shelf with a handful or rolled up scrolls, and a desk in the middle of the room with a single chair. The desk was cluttered with more parchment and scrolls, and sitting in the desk was a man.

“What is this you've brought me, Mr. Smithe?” The man, which Anastasia assumed to be the pirate captain, asked, rising from his chair to walk closer. “A pearl from the sea perhaps? Or just a shiny pebble stuck in your shoe?”

Smithe pulled her forward for the captain's inspection before finally letting her go. “Daughter of the merchant, Cap'n.” He replied. “Found her hiding under the bed like a scared little mouse. Good thing, too, we're getting ready to scuttle the ship.”

“The merchant?” The captain repeated as he stepped closer. “The fat one that wouldn't stop crying?” He stopped right in front of Anastasia and lightly gripped her chin, turning her face from side to side as he studied her. “That pitiful slob had such pretty offspring? It must come from her mother.”

Anastasia stood placidly as he inspected her. She wanted to correct him, tell him that she had no tie to the merchant captain whatsoever, but something else told her that it was safer to let the men keep their assumptions. If they knew she was really a princess, they might try ransoming her. The last thing she wanted was to be sent back home to marry some awful old man chosen by her real father. What could these men possibly do to her that would be worse than that?

The captain lowered his hand and frowned up at his first mate. “What in the world did the crew do to this girl, Mr. Smithe? She seems.... broken.”

“No one has touched her except me, Cap'n.” Mr. Smithe replied. “She was lively but a moment ago. Saw herself a little blood and she flopped like a ragdoll. She'll come out of it soon enough.”  
The Captain nodded and turned his attention back to Anastasia. “Very good, Mr. Smithe. You may continue with your duties.” The other man turned and walked out of the small cabin, closing the door tightly behind him, leaving the princess and the pirate captain along together.

Anastasia rolled her eyes passively to look over the stranger before her. He stood tall, towering over her, with a dash of dirty blond bangs peeking from beneath his fancy tricorn. Unlike the rest of the crew, the captain was well dressed and groomed, his appearance as impeccable as any member of her father's court.

A long black coat with gold stitching hung over his tall frame. Beneath it he wore a red vest with golden embroidery over a simple white blouse. A Silken red sash was tied about his waist, a shining silver cutlass tucked into the side. His black trousers also appeared to be of a custom cut, leading to a pair of boots that would have been the envy of any of her kingdom's residents. Slowly her eyes roamed back up to his face, only slightly surprised to find him smiling down at her.

His eyes were a striking blue, like a cloudless sky at midday. His face was long with a broad forehead, leading to a wide nose. His thin-lipped mouth peeked out from behind a thick yet neatly-trimmed beard the color of caramel. Had she access to her emotions at that moment, Anastasia cooly reflected, she would have felt both disturbed and disgusted by how handsome she immediately found him to be.

“Well, I see there's still someone in there after all.” The captain said, his words surprisingly articulate. He reached up and removed his hat, folding it to his chest as he bowed shallowly toward her, the motion more mocking that a show of respect. “Welcome to my humble abode, my dear lady. Please do make yourself comfortable. I am Captain Crowley Derlain, at your service.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is still leading somewhere.... I think.

Anastasia rocked herself back and forth as she sat on the edge of the small bed. Her arms wrapped around herself tightly as if attempting to hold her body together. Crowley watched her with a detached curiosity from his chair.

Captain Crowley Derlain. THE Captain Crowley. Even in her place high and safe in the palace, stories of the infamous mad man had reached her ears. He came across as friendly, sometimes even charming, with a smile on his face and a spring in his step, but he was black of heart and protected by some dark god whose name had been lost to time.

According to some of the stories, he was also unkillable. Witnesses were few and far between, but those that existed told stories of how the pirate captain had been slashed, stabbed, gored and even poisoned, and yet he never gained so much as a limp. Once he had even been captured. The brave villagers had hung him, beheaded him, and then burned the corpse, but when the fires died, there had been no bones left behind, only ash, stones, and a handful of flame pearls. A few days later the flame pearls had disappeared and the supposedly deceased captain had been spotted calmly walking away from the village and disappearing somewhere in the forest.

And now she was his captive.

As soon as the realization had struck, Anastasia's emotional barriers shattered like brittle glass and all of her numbness was washed away in a flood of overpowering, and at times conflicting, emotions. Unable to process it all at once, she had done the only reasonable thing and fainted.

She had woken up laying in the captain's bed with the handsome scoundrel himself bent over and studying her like a complex puzzle he was trying to solve. There was no animosity in his gaze, but there was no compassion in it either.

He had backed off immediately as she had come awake, but then he had sat in his chair, continuing to study her curiously. Anastasia had sat up, intending to rise form the bed, but then she had felt her predicament pressing down on her like a weight and she had been unable to stand. She didn't even realize she had begun rocking until she finally began to calm down. Cutting her eyes to Captain Crowley, she licked her lips and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly from her nose.

“So... Are you really Captain Crowley?” She had asked in a shaky voice.

The pirate tilted his head like a confused hound. “Who else would I be?”

Anastasia cleared her throat and straightened her back, hoping to project more confidence than she actually felt. “Well, you could be anyone, really, and just using the name of a notorious pirate for some no doubt nefarious reason.”

Crowley nodded thoughtfully. “No doubt. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I am not some impostor with, as you said, nefarious aims. I am Captain Crowley Derlain and the only Captain Crowley I have ever heard of. But I suppose it's possible that some other pirate captain shares my name.” His eyes cast to the side and he scratched his beard as he pondered the possibility he had just put forth. Suddenly his gaze snapped back to her and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “But while we're on the subject of names, may I ask yours?”

Anastasia opened her mouth to reply, her voice already prepared to sound as bored as she often felt in the courts when she was forced to attend, but she stopped herself, letting out only a small croak.

“Well...” Crowly said after a pause. “That's quite an unusual name.”

“That wasn't my name!” She snapped back. “I just... got confused for a moment. That's all. My name is...” She thought for a moment. Obviously she didn't want him to know that she was a princess, but was her first name uncommon enough to reveal her secret? She had never actually thought about it before. “Ana.” She finally finished. “My name is Ana.” As she said it the second time, she gave a tight nod of authority.

“I see.” The captain continued to study her silently a moment before his lips pulled apart in a wide smile. “Well, Ana, welcome aboard! I'm afraid it's not the accommodations you're no doubt used to, but to be honest, this thing will be on the bottom of the ocean soon enough. I'll try to steal something with a little more class.”

“Did you steal this one?” Ana asked, unable to keep the note of derision from her voice. As soon as the words left her mouth she felt a stab of fear. “I mean, it's just that-”

“Well, let's just say that at the time, my options were limited,” He cut her off, seemingly unoffended by her comment. “And this was the best of bad choices. No one will miss it or the men currently running it. But they should both last long enough until I find something better.”

Anastasia was aghast. Had she really just heard him say that he cared nothing for the crew under his command? The sheltered princess knew very little about the lives of sailors and ships, but she thought all captains cared for those beneath them. How else would they get the men's loyalty? Maybe it was just different with pirates. “Well I hope you're not planning to ask me to join your crew. No matter how nice of a ship you steal, I would never.”

Crowley gave her an exaggerated frown, his forehead wrinkling with the raising of his eyebrows. “Well now that's a shame. I was really considering asking you to be my first mate.” His voice carried a note of mockery. “Ah well. If that's your decision then I suppose my hands are tied. I have no other option than to bring you to Cyrog.”

“Cyrog?” Anastasia repeated nervously. “Where is that? I've never heard of a Cyrog before.”

The charming smile returned as Captain Crowley began to chuckle. “Cyrog is not a where, but a who. And I think he's going to find you quite entertaining.”

There was no hint of threat or malice in the captain's voice, he could have been discussing the weather, but the young princess still felt a chill of dread run along her spine. Pushing her fear aside, Anastasia once again raised her chin in a show of bravery. “Ok, then who is this Cyrog? Another pirate? I've never heard of him.”

“Well, no. Not really.” Crowly replied. “He's not really well known outside of this particular crew, but that's completely by intention.” He smiled apologetically and offered his palms. “I don't really mean to be so vague, but... I also do. I confess I enjoy the surprise. But don't worry, you'll be meeting him soon enough.”

Anastasia couldn't prevent the soft whimper that escaped her closing throat. “And what will he do with me?” Her voice was a high squeak and she wished she could take back the question immediately.

Crowley leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his chest. “Well, that depends on his mood when we get there. If we're lucky, he'll still be in a good one.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where the dragon theoretically shows up

Just as with the merchant and his crew, Anastasia's days quickly bled into one another as her life fell into a boring routine. While not technically confined to the small cabin she had been given for her stay aboard the rickety old pirate ship, but she had not exactly been granted safety among the crew if she left it either.

She had tried once. Driven mad with boredom and cabin fever, she had stormed out of the tiny room and made her way to the deck for some fresh air. The captain had been at the wheel with his second standing nearby. The young princess had felt safe under his watchful gaze and walked to the railing in full view, casting her gaze across the water.

Beyond the wake created by the ship, the ocean was as smooth as glass, and the sun created a shimmering trail across it's surface like a pathway of crushed diamonds. Anastasia was just beginning to lose herself in the peace of it all when she felt the prickle of raising hairs along the back of her neck.

Someone was staring at her.

Turning, Anastasia saw one of the pirates leering at her from a few feet away. She scowled at the filthy man and tried to turn back to the sea, but he stepped closer. “Yer a tasty little thing, ain't yer?” He said as he advanced. Anastasia felt his voice like a trail of cold slime across her skin. “Hows 'bout we go below decks and you gives me a treat?”

“I don't think so, you disgusting swine!” She snapped, taking a step back. “Now go away! Back to your trough, or where ever it is you go on this boat.”

Undeterred, the pirate continued his advance, his tongue slipping out to moisten his salt-cracked lips. “Pretty words, little girl, but I has a better use for that mouth than pretty little words.”

Taking another step back, Anastasia looked back over her shoulder for the captain, wondering why he hadn't called off his underling yet. Crowley still stood at the wheel, but he was watching her intently again, studying her like some interesting passage in a book. He showed no interest in stopping the advance of his underling.

When Anastasia turned back to the pirate, she gasped. He had closed the gap between them, his arms already reaching for her. “Comes here, sweetling.” He crooned. The young princess screamed and tried to dart away, but he grabbed her and pulled her back against his bony chest. His long, lanky arms wrapped around her like the coils of a snake and held her tightly.A bony hand clasped one of her breasts and squeezed painfully, making Anastasia cry out.

“Let go of me, scum!” She screamed and struggled against his grip, expecting Crowley to step in at any moment. The pirate captain continued to stare, his look expressing only an intense curiosity. Beside him, his first mate remained stone faced and disinterested.

“Easy now, little sweetling.” The pirate said, his mouth next to her ear and his fetid breath floating into her face. “Not gonna hurts yah none. Just want to have a little fun's all.”

Anastasia realized she was left to her own devices. Crowley had no interest in rescuing her. The pirate squeezed her breast painfully tight again and the young princess wrestled with her feelings of fear and disgust. “I said, let me go!” She screamed. She stamped a slippered foot on his toes and thrashed her arms until she was free. The pirate let out a howl of pain and released her. Without looking back, Anastasia ran to her cabin and slammed the door behind her.

She had refused to leave since.

The cabin was tiny, stuffy, and insufferably hot, but she barely dared to so much as crack the door open for fresh air. While no one dared to disturb her while inside, she couldn't help but imagine lustfully leering faces peering in at her when ever she reached for the knob.

She was brought meals, someone knocking at her door and leaving food for her outside. She began using them to count her days, since she so rarely saw the sky anymore. It was a week before she was summoned again.

She had been expecting dinner when the welcome knock came on her door, but when she opened it, she found the first mate, Smythe, standing there instead. “Cap'n wants to see you.” He said simply, his voice as hard as his face.

Confused and a little nervous, the young princess had followed him the short distance to the Captain's own cabin, then waited patiently while he knocked and was given permission to enter. Instead of leading her inside, he opened the door and stood aside, waiting for her to enter alone. Confusion rising, she walked forward and the door was closed behind her.

“Welcome.” Crowley was sitting behind his deck, his blue eyes trained on her. “And how is our esteemed guest today? Can I get you anything?” His words were mocking but somehow his voice was sincere.

Anastasia returned his gaze, surprised once again by her strange attraction to her captor and the butterflies he send flying in her stomach when he looked at her. He had proven time and again that he was just as terrible as the stories about him said, and yet, she knew she would overlook all of it just to hear him tell her she was pretty. She might even join his crew if he asked. She forced herself to make a stern face before she spoke, however.

“I could be a lot better.” She complained. “Honestly, that tiny little mop closet you've stuck me in may as well be an oven, and the food you serve is hardly fit to be slop for hogs! And the way you let your crew behave, they're worse than animals! Not to mention I haven't been able to bathe since I don't even know when.” She continued with her list of complaints, unable to stop herself despite the increasing ludicrousness of her rants. Her feet began to pace as she spoke, her arms waving animatedly with her words.

Crowley watched her patiently as she ranted, his clear blue eyes following her every movement as if he were trying to drink her in. The small, polite smile never left his plump lips. When she finally stopped, he nodded and a somber expression replaced his smile. “Well, let me apologize for the many grievances you've experienced while aboard this humble vessel.”

Anastasia scowled, unable to tell if she was being mocked. His voice and expression were both much more sincere than his words. “Yes, well...” She grumbled irritably.

Crowley's face changed to a cheerful smile. “But I have some good news. Tomorrow we shall be reaching land, and you will be safety escorted to much more comfortable accommodations.”

“Oh.” Anastasia replied. She was taken aback but his words and wasn't sure if she should be happy or worried about reaching land. “Home?”

Crowley's eyebrows raised slightly, although his smile remained in place. “Yes. Home.” His voice was slightly wistful. Anyway, that's all I wanted to tell you. Make sure you pack up any valuables you've managed to bring with you and be ready to go in the morning.”

With that, she was dismissed. Without comment, she turned and left, allowing Smythe to escort her back to her tiny cabin as she pondered the captain's words. Home? Did he mean that he was returning her to her home? Did he figure out her true identity? Had her father somehow located her and made a deal for her safe return? Did she want to go back even if it meant freedom from her captors? She wondered if her father would still try to make her marry some old, unwanted stranger, or would he understand how serious she was and leave her be? She was surprised to find that she was homesick and did miss her father.

Questions swirled around the princess' head, chasing away sleep. Her only personal possessions were what little she wore on her body. There was nothing on the entire ship that she wanted to take with her. The cabin was too small to allow her to pace as she wanted, so all she could do was lay in her cot and wait. Lost to her thoughts, Anastasia began to fidget with growing levels of pent up energy. By the time three heavy knocks came to her door, she found herself laying upside down on her cot with her legs against the wall and her fingers dancing across the floor. Snapped back into the present, she nearly tumbled off of the cot in an attempt to swiftly reposition herself into a more respectable pose.

After a few seconds the knock came again, more insistent the second time. Anastasia jumped to her feet and hurried to the door. The stern face of Smythe greeted her as she opened it. “Cap'n wants you.” He said simply. Anastasia nodded and followed him as he began to walk away. Instead of leading her to the captain's room, however, he took her across the deck to where a small boat hung from the ship's side.

Inside the small lifeboat, Crowley stood in the middle with two men on either end of the boat. He smiled his brilliant smile as he caught sight of her. “Ah! There you are! Would you kindly join me for a short journey to shore?”

In her immediate relief, the young princess forgot all of the concerns she had been mulling over for so long and hurried toward the suspended boat. Just for the sake of being out of that tiny cabin and safely off the run-down old ship, she would happily face a deserted island. At the very least it would be a change of scenery. She might even be willing to marry an old creepy stranger if it meant having a real bed, hot food, and the ability to bathe again.

“Of course I'll join you, Captain.” She replied, offering him a smile of her own. Gathering up her skirts, she accepted his outstretched hand and allowed him to help her into the lifeboat. The small craft was in no better shape than the main ship, and as Anastasia settled on the creaking seat beside the captain, she worried it may not stay afloat long enough to reach the promised shore.

Before she could question it, Crowley settled down beside her on the hard wooden bench and waved his arm. “Alright! Lower us ho, lads!” 

The lifeboat creaked and groaned almost as much as the pulleys holding it to the side of the old ship while it was roughly lowered the waves below. Each inch was uncomfortable, rattling Anastasia's jaw and nearly making her lose her balance several times. Every salt-tinged breeze brought with it the sent of body odor and seaweed, yet she gulped it down eagerly. It was still better than the stale rank air of her cabin. The young woman was more than ready to end her strange adventure by the time the lifeboat was finished being lowered and the men on the ends pulled out their oars. She almost felt giddy in her relief.

Her giddiness turned to butterflies when she suddenly realized how close the handsome captain was. The boat was small and he was nearly close enough to touch her. She glanced at him, darting her eyes to the side and quickly looking away, seeing that he was watching two of him men as they rowed, his smile somehow stern instead of merry.

Suddenly she shook her head to clear it. Why did she keep having these feelings, she asked herself. The man was notorious for his cruelty. He had abducted her, slaughtered the entire crew of the ship she had been on, including the man she had assumed to be her father, he had given her little more than a mop closet to sleep in, and didn't even bother to protect her from his own men. How could she possibly feel anything but revulsion towards him?

A sudden bump as the boat ran aground jerked her back out of her thoughts. “Ah, we're here.” Crowely exclaimed, waiting for the other men to pull the boat further onto shore before jumping out. “Be it ever so humble and all of that.” He turned to face Anastasia again, offering his hand to help her step out of the lifeboat.

Anastasia stepped carefully onto the pale sand, then looked around at her new surroundings for the first time. Trees and thick undergrowth unlike anything she had experienced before was the first thing she noticed. Other than a bare ribbon of sand, it appeared to cover most of the land as far as her eye could see. A small, rickety shack stood several feet away, built just on the border of the strange forest. Further down the beach, a large outcropping of rock jutted out from the sand, creating a type of cave. The air was warm and humid, but much fresher than it had ever been on the deck of the ship.

“So, um,” Anastasia asked, rubbing her hand where it still tingled form the handsome captain's touch, “This is where you live when not out robbing merchant vessels?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Crowley replied. “Cozy, isn't it?” He gave her another of his gleaming smiles, leaving her unsure if he was serious or not.

“In a manner of speaking.” She repeated. After another step she felt unbalanced, the ground far too solid for legs that had finally grown accustomed to constant rocking. She stumbled and nearly fell face first into the sand before she was able to regain her balance. “I suppose it will take a little getting used to.”

“Well, I doubt it will take you long to get accustomed to things here. And Cyrog will certainly appreciate the company. That should keep you both occupied.” Crowley replied. “Come, I'll take you to meet him. Then you'll have plenty of time to get settled. Do you have all of your things?”

Anastasia looked down at herself and sighed. All she had left in the world was on her body. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“Excellent! Just this way, then.” Crowley replied and began to walk along the beach. The other crew, she noticed quickly, stayed with the lifeboat, watching them with a mix of amusement and trepidation. Giving another weary sigh, the princess began to follow him.

The soft beach sand sunk under her feet, making every step a chore. Her legs quickly grew sore and while the shack did not look particularly sturdy, or even very clean, she looked forward to getting inside so she could at least have something solid to walk on. But as they grew closer to the small building, Crowley made no move to approach it. Instead, he kept right on walking, and as he passed the shack, Anastasia felt a twinge of unease that she couldn't immediately pinpoint.

“Aren't we going to meet this Cyrog of yours?” She called out, looking at the shack as she made her own way past it.

“Of course we are.” Crowley called back over his shoulder. “He's not far.”

“You mean, he doesn't live in there?” She asked, hurrying to catch back up to the confusing captain whose easy stride kept putting distance between them..

“Of course not.” Crowley replied. “Someone else built that a long time ago. He's long gone now, feel free to make use of it if you wish. But Cyrog is a little further this way.”

“Wait, someone else?” Anastasia paused. “How many people are here? Where are they? Where did the other person go? I have so many questions.”

“You are indeed the inquisitive type! Cyrog will enjoy that.” The captain said without slowing his pace. They were approaching the cave and nearly to its entrance. 

Once more, Anastasia tried to run in order to catch up with him, her shadow forging ahead of her, when she suddenly realized what had had bothered her when they were passing the shack. “Captain Crowley, why do you not cast any shadow?”

“Help! Help!” The cry echoed from just inside the cave entrance and froze Anastasia in her tracks. Crowley stopped a few steps after her. “Please! Help me!”

“Who is that?!” She cried, pulled between wanting to help and her own self preservation.

“Help!” The voice cried again before the figure of a man appeared in the mouth of the cave. He was dirty, clothed only in a tattered pair of trousers that had torn away at the knee. His hair and beard were as wild as the jungle covering most of the visible land. “Help me! He's coming!” The man was running frantically towards them.

Anastasia was about to run to the man's aid when she heard a roar that turned her very blood to ice. A large serpentine head followed the man out of the cave. The man was only allowed a few more steps before the leviathan opened its mouth and a jet of fire burst forth to engulf the fleeing figure. The man's scream was quickly cut short and his body disappeared within the blast of flame, no doubt reduced to ash within seconds.

“That is Cyrog.” Crowley exclaimed before turning to give the princess his customary smile. After a moment, however, the smile began to fade. “Are you quite alright? You look a little pale.”  
Anastasia opened her mouth to reply, but instead allowed herself to fall into the safe, comforting darkness waiting to catch her as she fell into a faint.


	7. Chapter 7

Anastasia slowly opened her eyes, and a handsome man's face filled her field of vision. His mouth, which was turned down in concern, (concern for HER no less!), looked inviting. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss his pouting lips. Her eyes moved upward to meet his own, losing herself in the brilliance of their blue.

“Ah, you're awake now.” Crowley said, some of his concern fading away. “Are you alright? I've never seen a reaction quite like yours before.”

Memories came rushing back like waves over the ocean, attempting to drown her in remembered terror. The attack on the merchant ship. Her abduction. The slain crew. The amorous pirate. Crowley's strange stare. The great monstrous head coming out of the cave. The strange man fleeing in fear while crying out for help that would never come in time. The same man being swallowed by fire until nothing of him remained. She wished she could fall back into the safety of unconsciousness.

“None of that was just a bad dream, was it.” Anastasia sighed in resignation. “The ship, that beast, none of it.”

“Well, I couldn't possibly know what you dreamed of.” Crowley replied. “But if you're referring to the same things I am, then it wasn't confined to a dream, no.”

“Then I'm probably not alright.” She groaned as she sat up, brushing the sand off of her arms. “What was that hideous creature?”

Crowley rose to his feet and offered his hand, helping her back to her own feet. “Just some random man. No one of any importance, I assure you.”

“What? Nobody important?” Anastasia felt her jaw fall to her chest in astonishment. “No, not that poor man. The creature that spat fire at him! Is that this mysterious Cyrog's pet or something?”

The infamous pirate captain chuckled softly. “Of course not.” Anastasia felt herself relax a little, but then his next words made her choke on her own breath. “You're his pet now. And that was Cyrog.”

“That... that giant hideous fire-breathing monster is... is....” She stammered.

“Oh come now, he's not hideous!” Crowley replied, a note of injury creeping into his voice. “Actually he's quite handsome for his age and species.”

“Well to THIS age and species,” Anastasia snapped, poking her own chest, “it's a hideous, terrible, ugly monster! And only someone like you would keep such an abomination as a plaything!”

Crowley smiled slyly, as if she was the butt of some private joke. “I'm sure he'll grow on you in time. And as long as you perform all of your duties-”

“Wait... I have to do chores for that creatures too?” Anastasia exclaimed, feeling herself on the verge of another faint as she remembered the fleeing man being reduced to ash.

“Oh, not before a proper introduction, of course.” Crowley replied. His sly grin returned, making her feel like she was part of some joke she wasn't aware of. “Oh, by the way, do you mind pretending to be a princess? It would amuse him so much, and he gets so little amusement out here.”

Anastasia felt her breath once more catch in her chest. Did he know? Had he somehow discovered her real identity? “A... a princess?” She squeaked.

“Yes.” Crowley said before turning away and walking toward the cave again. “As I said, as long as you take care of a few tasks for him, you'll be free to do as you wish while you're here. Be careful wandering too far, though. There are some dangerous animals in the jungle there. They stay away from Cyrog, and those that get too close become lunch. But if you go wandering too far away, they may look at you as lunch instead.” He chuckled again as he glanced over his shoulder.

Anastasia nervously began to follow. “And just what sort of chores am I going to be expected to perform here?”

“Oh, not a lot, really. Cyrog doesn't actually require much.” Crowley replied, stopping near the mouth of the cave and waiting for the young woman to catch up. “Bring him food now and then, which will be delivered by one of my men every few days, scrub his scales when they get a bit dull, and keep him entertained.”

“How does one entertain such a creature?!” She hissed. “Especially one who sets innocent people on fire! I'm not being sacrificed to that beast, am I?”

“Of course not!” Crowley waved off the accusation. “That would be such a waste. Besides, as long as you keep him well fed, Cyrog won't have any reason to eat you.”

“That's... thats not nearly as reassuring as you think.” Anastasia muttered.

“Cyrog!” Crowley called, ignoring her comment. “Come on out and meet your new companion.”

Once more, Anastasia felt the ground vibrate beneath her feet. The echo of a snort rumbled like a distant thunder. From the shadows of the overhanging rocks, an enormous reptilian head slid into the sunlight. 

Smooth scales of a brilliant green covered a large reptilian head. A small snubbed horn sprouted from a long tapered snout, two more large spiked horned grew from either side of it's triangular head. Small bony ridges ringed eyes of brilliant blue, each filled with a cold, malicious intelligence. A long, serpentine neck stretched out from broad and powerful shoulders.

The creature lowered its head until its eyes were nearly level with the pair of much smaller humans, and Anastasia felt naked under its scrutinizing gaze. As she stared into eyes larger than her head, she noticed that they were the very same shade of blue as the handsome captain.

Daring to turn her gaze away from the giant monster, she looked at Crowley. He was gazing at the beast with loving admiration. She had heard stories of people who had sold or lost their souls to crafty dragons, becoming eternal slaves to the beasts in exchange for rewards that could only be imagined. Perhaps power or promised riches. Had the infamous pirate captain become a shade in exchange for his prowess and indestructibility, she wondered.

Or was the color purely a coincidence?

A soft rumble made Anastasia snap her attention back to the giant beast, a fearful squeak escaping from her throat before she could stop it. Scaly lips were pulling back to expose the creature's long ivory teeth as it growled. The sound was almost... like a chuckle.

“Magnificent, isn't he? I knew you two would get along.” Crowley said cheerfully. “He's already quite amused by your antics.”


End file.
